


Live at the Rainbow

by TheNightComesDown



Series: Mother to Son [5]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: F/M, Family, Smut, parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-30 22:45:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17837426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNightComesDown/pseuds/TheNightComesDown
Summary: You and your son go to visit Roger at the Rainbow Theatre, where Queen is performing live.





	Live at the Rainbow

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if this is too slutty. Have fun. I've done zero editing, it's 6am and I got sucked into writing this atrocity. Will fix at a later time

**LONDON // NOVEMBER 19, 1974**

The queue outside London’s Rainbow Theatre was packed, but you managed to thread through the crowd with your young son in tow. At the door, the security guard allowed you to pass by; Roger had asked for your name to be added to the list of people allowed in before the show. Freddie and John’s girlfriends, Mary and Veronica, were waiting just inside the door. 

“Y/N, thank goodness,” Mary exclaimed. “I thought we were going to be the only ones here tonight.” She wrapped you in an appreciative hug. 

“It’s so awkward to just stand around,” Veronica added. “But now our favourite person is here, so we’re sure to have a lovely evening!” Veronica knelt down and planted a loud, smacking kiss on Corin’s cheek. 

“Auntie Vee, stop!” he giggled, wrinkling his nose. “Kisses are yucky!” 

“Do I get one too?” Mary asked, furrowing her brow in mock jealousy. Corin held his hands up towards her, and she scooped him up into a hug. 

“Do Cookie Monster, Auntie Em!” Corin squeaked. Mary obliged, imitating the blue biscuit-eating muppet’s voice as she tickled Corin’s tummy. Although Sesame Street wasn’t widely broadcast in the UK, Corin had seen it on TV a few times, and found the blue monster hilarious. 

“I’ve missed seeing you girls lately,” Veronica said, putting an arm affectionately around your shoulders. “Freddie’s mother must be feeling lonely without all of us sitting around her table every couple weekends.” 

“She might be relieved,” you joked. “When she first started inviting the boys over, I’m sure she never anticipated adding all the rest of us to the table.” 

“I think she’s happy to see Freddie fitting in with a group that loves him,” Veronica shrugged. “Seems like she feels useful when she can do something tangible to take care of him. Having us all over is really just an expression of her love.” 

“Definitely a mother I admire,” you said, smiling as you watched Corin and Mary chase each other around the foyer of the theatre. The doors into the sitting area were all closed, but you could hear the shuffling sounds of the stage being set-up. The boys were probably getting dressed in the back, but judging by the time, you thought they might come out to say hello soon. 

“Alright, Cor, let’s give Aunt Mary a break,” you called to your son. “She’s going to fall over in those pretty shoes of hers.” Corin raced over to you and wrapped his arms around your legs. 

“When’s Daddy coming out?” he wondered, looking up at you. His hair, which had now passed his shoulders in length, had been mussed up while playing with Mary. Although he wasn’t Roger’s biological child, you swore every day that he was starting to look more and more like him. 

“In a little bit, Cor,” you promised, brushing a lock of hair back from his forehead. “Do you want a snack while we wait? I brought some of that dried fruit you like.” He opened and closed his hands like a crab’s claws as you pulled out a container of fruit. He shook it next to his ear, smiling at the clunking sound the fruit made within. 

“Have you brought some for us as well, Y/N?” Veronica teased, patting the top of Corin’s head as he walked past her. He plopped down on the floor beneath a cocktail table, leaving you to talk with the girls. 

“I’ve got wine and spring rolls at home, you’d all be welcome to come over for a late-night snack after the show,” you offered. “I agree with Mary that it’s been ages since we got together. We’ve got to stick together while our boys are off seeing the world.” 

“Am I invited as well?” a voice rang out across the foyer. Chrissie, Brian’s long-time girlfriend, had just come in through a side door. 

“We thought you might not be coming, darling,” Mary frowned, throwing her arms around Chrissie. “Where the hell have you been?” 

“Just stepped into the powder room,” she smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Veronica, always the careful observer, eyed her suspiciously. 

“That’s a cute scarf, Chris,” she said, touching the purple fabric of the scarf wrapped around Chrissie’s throat. “Might get a bit warm in here for that, though. Can I tuck it away with my jacket for you?” 

“No!” Chrissie said forcefully. “I mean…that’s alright, I’ve been feeling chilly all day.” Veronica raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly. 

“Are you cold, or are you hiding this?” Veronica asked, pulling Chrissie’s scarf down to reveal a series of bruises starting to bloom below her collarbone. 

“Chrissie, you minx!” Mary exclaimed. “Have you been backstage with Brian all this time?” Chrissie pulled her scarf back into place, blushing profusely. 

“How did you know, V?” 

“Just a woman’s intuition,” Veronica shrugged, fluttering her eyelashes innocently. 

“Oh, she’s just jealous that she didn’t get to sneak in a quickie while John’s in town,” Mary accused, putting a protective hand on Chrissie’s back. “She’s a good little Catholic girl, but she just can’t say no to John’s d—” 

“Come on back, darlings,” Freddie called from behind the room, interrupting Mary mid-sentence. “We’ve got seats for you backstage.” Corin jumped up from beneath the table, spilling dried fruit chunks on the floor with the force of his movement. 

“Uncle Fred!” the boy shouted, running towards Freddie. 

“Hello, my dear,” Freddie beamed, catching Corin as he jumped into his arms. “Are you ready to see the show?” Freddie lifted Corin onto his shoulders, encouraging him to duck as he guided your group through the backstage area. The lighting was dim, and various cords and cables were taped haphazardly to the floor, creating perfect conditions for someone to trip. Mary lifted her feet, clad in 3-inch heels, carefully as she navigated the dark maze. 

“Daddy said I could touch his drums!” Corin told Freddie, who was patiently allowing the boy to toy with his hair. Corin had nearly burst with excitement when Roger had suggested the idea to him over breakfast that morning. 

“I’m sure you’ll be a natural,” Freddie assured him. “If you’re anything like your father, you’ll be up on stage with us before you know it!” 

It had always been so endearing to you that Roger’s bandmates made time to talk with your son. It provided Corin with a plethora of male role models. So long as he didn’t emulate their drinking habits, you were happy to let Corin run around with Roger and the boys when they were in town. 

As you turned a corner into an area with better lighting, you saw Roger and John, who were seated on road cases. They were sharing a cigarette between them as they chatted – a sign of their comfortable, relaxed friendship. At the sound of footsteps and voices, the two looked up from their conversation. 

“There’s my boy!” Roger shouted, throwing his arms in the air. After passing his cigarette to John, Roger lifted Corin down from Freddie’s shoulders and held him tightly. “And my girl,” he smiled, leaning down to kiss you. The three of you stood together, wrapped in what Corin liked to call a ‘family hug’. 

“Working hard, you two, hmm?” you teased, eyeing the cigarette hanging from John’s mouth over Roger’s shoulder. 

“Warming up,” John said, wiggling his fingers in the air. “Guitars are on stage already.” He meandered over to Veronica and pulled her into a tight hug. Mary and Freddie were talking quietly in the corner, and Chrissie had gone off in search of Brian, who was likely in the dressing room. 

“Can I see your drums now, Daddy?” Corin asked, reaching out to touch the pendant of Roger’s necklace. He toyed with it, flipping it over to see the pattern on the metal. Your boyfriend’s shirt was completely unbuttoned, leaving his chest bare. The shoulders of his shirt were decorated with a curling silver thread. He looked amazing, you thought to yourself, and made a note to inform him of that fact after the show. 

“Sure, pal, let’s go have a look,” Roger nodded, carrying Corin out through the concealed side door and onto the stage. The Rainbow Theatre, which could hold nearly 3,500 people, was one of the biggest venues they had played on the tour so far. Roger had explained over breakfast that regularly filling venues of this size was their dream at the moment. 

You walked out onto the stage to join the boys, stopping beside John’s bass cabinet to watch Corin and Roger together. Your son was balanced on Roger’s knee, holding a pair of drumsticks that were much too long for him to hold properly. As Roger pointed out different pieces of the kit, Corin repeated the names and gave each a gentle tap to hear the sound it made. 

“Give this one a good thwack, Cor,” Roger instructed, tapping on the rim of the snare. Corin obliged, grinning devilishly at the snappy vibration reverberating around the hall. As you observed them, something brushed against your arm. Brian, camera in hand, had sidled up beside you. He wore only socks on his feet, which explained why you hadn’t heard him walk up. The camera shutter snapped closed, capturing the adorable father-son moment. 

“I’ve got to tell you, Y/N,” Brian murmured, “I’ve known Rog a long time now, and I’ve never seen him as happy as he is when he’s with you and Corin.” You glanced up at Brian thoughtfully. 

“It’s getting harder for us all every time he leaves to go back on tour,” you admitted. “Sometimes I almost wonder if…” 

“If what?” 

“Maybe things would be better for Rog if he didn’t have us to worry about,” you shrugged. “He’s got so much potential, so much skill and talent. Sometimes I feel like we’re holding him back. He’d be able to focus more if he didn’t feel obligated to check in on us all the time.” 

“That’s absolute bollocks, Y/N,” Brian countered. “Roger likes the touring life, but it’s pretty clear to all of us that he’s happiest when he’s back in London with the two people he loves most in the world. What the hell’s the point of making records and touring if you go home to an empty flat at the end of the day?” 

“Well, how is it for you and Chrissie when you’re away?” you ventured, hoping your knowledge of their secret backstage tryst wasn’t pasted across your face. “Does it ever get easier?” 

“We don’t have kids yet, so things are much simpler for us,” he acknowledged. “I call her when I get the chance, once every week or so when we’re on the road. And when she gets time off work, she’ll join us on tour for a week or so.” 

“You and Chrissie only talk once a week?” you asked, incredulous. “Rog calls me to talk every night. I’d be hopeless if he didn’t.” 

“He…well, Roger…” Brian pressed his lips together hesitantly, glancing over at his bandmate before continuing. “Sometimes he worries that you’ll get tired of him not being around…that maybe you’ll want to move on, find someone more _stable_ for you and Corin.” 

“He thinks I’m going to leave him because he’s touring?” you asked, your eyebrows knitting together anxiously. “Brian, are you serious?” 

“Pretend I didn’t say anything,” he urged you, looking over his shoulder as a roadie called his name backstage. “I need to go, but just trust me when I say that he’s in it for the long haul with you and Corin.” 

“Mum, look at this!” Corin called out to you, waving his drumsticks wildly to get your attention. “Daddy and me are going to drum for you!” You watched Brian hurry offstage before turning your attention to Corin and Roger. 

Corin, sticks in hand, allowed his father to gently guide him from drum to drum. Roger operated the bass drum and high-hat pedals with his feet without thinking while Corin noodled around on the toms. As they played, he looked up at Roger and said something you couldn’t hear over the enormous noise they were making together. Roger nodded, finishing their solo session with a cymbal smash. 

“Wait right here,” Roger instructed, lifting Corin off his lap and hurrying off the stage. He returned a moment later with a small set of industrial earmuffs. “Hearing protection is a must if you’re going to spend a lot of time making a racket or going to shows like Daddy does,” he explained, sliding the earmuffs over Corin’s ears. The boy’s jaw dropped as Roger began to mouth words at him; he was young enough to believe that the earmuffs magically blocked out any and every sound. You couldn’t help but laugh at the two of them. Your laughter echoed off the high ceilings of the theatre, alerting Corin to the trick Roger was playing on him. 

“Silly Daddy,” he said, poking the tip of Roger’s nose with his finger. 

“Gotcha, didn’t I?” Roger smiled, ruffling Corin’s hair. From backstage, the tour manager called out the time. 

“We’d better find a seat, Cor,” you announced, walking towards them. “Daddy’s probably got a few things to do before they start the show.” 

“He does, unfortunately,” Roger sighed. He leaned down to kiss your cheek, but at the last second, you shifted your face so that his lips met yours. He smiled, holding you close while he had the chance. 

“Alright, lovebirds, pack it in,” Freddie hollered from the stage door. Roger extended a hand towards Freddie, flipping him the bird as he prolonged your kiss. 

“Mummy, I have to pee right now!” Corin exclaimed suddenly. He pressed his knees together and bobbed up and down in an attempt to signal his discomfort. 

“Duty calls,” you groaned, breaking away from Roger. “We’ll see you after the show, alright?” You grabbed Corin’s hand and pulled him offstage in search of the nearest toilet. You hadn’t brought an extra pair of pants, so you hoped it was close. An ‘accident’ would certainly bring about a quick end to the evening. 

“I’ll blow you a kiss!” Roger called after you. “Watch for it!” 

* * * * * 

As you had all expected, the show was brilliant. You had been to a number of Queen’s gigs since you’d met Roger, but this one stood out in your mind as a definite highlight. Midway through the show, as Freddie took a moment to rehydrate by chugging down a cupful of warm beer, Roger used the break to fulfill the promise he had made earlier. 

“Just want to acknowledge our biggest fans here tonight, the lovely ladies and one rather small fellow up in the side balcony there,” Roger spoke into his microphone, pointing towards the group of you with his sticks. The audience clapped and cheered, although you heard the disappointed cries of a few female fans. Looking directly at you, Roger blew a kiss, which Corin reached out to catch. 

“You’d never think it if you didn’t know him, but Rog is a real sap, isn’t he?” Mary asked, lowering her voice as Freddie sat down at the piano. 

“He puts on an act onstage and with the media,” you answered, leaning closer to her. “But yes, he’s very sweet behind closed doors.” Mary sighed contentedly as Freddie’s voice filled the room with the beginning notes of ‘In the Lap of the Gods’, one of your favourite tracks from their newest album, . When Roger’s vocal part began, his falsetto cut through every other sound like a hot knife through butter. 

“That gets you going, I’m sure,” Mary whispered into your ear. You smacked her arm playfully, but knew she was right. Your heart beat a little faster every time you heard Roger sing, but his falsetto was a marvel to behold. Last night, his voice had drifted down the stairs into the kitchen, softly singing the words of Bob Dylan’s _Forever Young_ to your son as he fell asleep. 

Corin, who stood in front of you, clutching at the balcony railing, watched Roger with wide eyes. He could barely believe that his father could pay attention to so many different moving pieces as a drummer, but seeing him sing as he played amazed him even more. You felt bad for never having brought him along to a show before now – it was clear how much he was enjoying it all. 

To your surprise, Corin managed to stay awake right until the end of the show. Since he had turned six over the summer, his bedtime had moved back to 8:00, but this still made for a very late night. You were glad you’d convinced him to take an afternoon nap. 

Once the boys had taken their bows and exited the stage, you lifted Corin’s sleepy body into your arms and cradled his head against your shoulder. The foyer was buzzing as you and the girls descended the staircase onto the main floor, so you kept to the sidelines until things had simmered down. Mary and Veronica offered to hold Corin to give your arms a rest, but you assured them that you had it covered. 

“I don’t know how you do it,” Mary shook her head, wrapping an arm around your waist. “I love children, but if Freddie and I had a little one right now…” She trailed off, shuddering at the thought. 

“I never really had a choice,” you admitted. “I was barely 18 when I found out I was pregnant with him. Now I can’t imagine life without him.” As Chrissie leaned against the wall beside you, she noticed that one of Corin’s hands had a tight hold on the fabric of your shirt. She let out a soft sigh as she patted his back. 

“Has there been any talk of getting married?” Chrissie wondered. “You two have been together for nearly a year and a half now. I thought that maybe, with you having Corin, he’d maybe want to make things official?” 

“Not really,” you shrugged. “I’ve been married before, and it’s not much different from how Roger and I are now. He moved in a few months after we started dating, and he’s been with us ever since.” 

“Does your family ever say anything about you living together?” Veronica asked. She came from a religious family, and had been secretly living with John for a while now. Her parents thought she shared a flat with a girlfriend, and she hadn’t had the heart to tell them yet. 

“My brother’s made a few comments, but I just tell him he can fuck off with his traditional view on the nuclear family,” you joked. “I don’t have time for people who don’t like the way I choose to live.” 

“Amen, sister,” Mary nodded, supportively patting your shoulder. 

A few minutes later, Veronica spotted a gap in the crowd. She pushed you and Mary forward to take advantage of the lull in foot traffic. The security officer stationed at the backstage door waved you through, and you relied on Chrissie’s earlier experience to guide you to the dressing room. As you had expected, the boys had changed out of their costumes and were basking in the post-show high. 

John and Freddie were on the sofa, giggling together about something that had happened during the show – they had clearly had a few drinks already. You hadn’t noticed any mistakes, but you knew they boys were always very critical about their performances. 

Roger was leaned up against a wall at the back of the room, his arms crossed over his chest. He had put on a pair of sunglasses since coming offstage, likely because he was having a hard time seeing after sitting in a cloud of special effects smoke for hours. Brian stood before him, and it appeared that they were bickering over something. This wasn’t an unusual occurrence, so Chrissie approached the two of them and put a hand on Brian’s arm. 

“Give us a minute here, Chris,” Brian said sharply. 

“No, I think we’re done here,” Roger replied curtly, pushing away from the wall. When he reached you, he quickly kissed your cheek, and took your sleeping child into his arms. You glanced at Brian questioningly, who looked away as he met your eyes. 

“I guess I’ll…see you girls later,” you finished, feeling awkward about rescinding your earlier invitation for them to come over after the show. “Let’s do dinner together sometime in the next week or two.” The girls nodded understandingly, allowing you to follow Roger as he left the room without feeling too bad. 

“Roger,” you called after him, “wait up.” He was several metres ahead of you, and showed no sign of slowing down. “Rog, what the fuck?” 

“Yes, dear?” he sighed heavily, turning to look at you as you jogged up beside him. “What’s wrong?” Though you couldn’t see his eyes behind his sunglasses, you knew that he probably looked exhausted. As much as he enjoyed live shows, they took their toll on his body. It didn’t help that he usually drank nothing but alcohol prior to the show and onstage – his body was likely dehydrated. 

“You tell me,” you replied. “What’s up between you and Brian?” 

“Just a thing,” he deflected. “General tour issues.” He continued at a brisk pace, leaving you struggling to keep up. The crowd had mostly dissipated by the time you reached the foyer, but a few fans still hung around, waiting for an autograph or a chance to see the band. 

“There he is!” a voice called out, resulting in a small crowd forming around you. You attempted to take Corin back from Roger, but he maintained an iron grip on the boy. 

“Sorry ladies,” he apologized, scribbling quickly on a few pieces of paper with his left hand. “I’ve got to get my son home to bed.” As annoyed as you were at that moment, your heart fluttered when you heard him refer to Corin as ‘my son’. “We’ll be back at the Rainbow for one more show tomorrow night. See you all then!” He grabbed your hand and pulled you along beside him. 

A group of photographers were stationed outside the doors of the hall. The flash of their cameras made your eyes burn. Roger towed you along to a cab that was idling just outside the theatre. The driver picked up on Roger’s sour temper and maintained silence for the entirety of the ride, except to ask for the address. In the car, Roger held Corin against his chest and draped the boy’s legs onto your lap. 

When you arrived at the shop, you dug out your keys and opened the front door. Roger carried Corin straight upstairs and deposited him in bed. As you pulled two beers from the fridge and set them on the counter, you heard the pipes start to rattle in the wall beside the staircase – a sure sign that the shower in your bathroom had just been turned on. Frowning, you put the opened beers back into the fridge and crept up the stairs. 

Upon entering into the room you and Roger shared, you saw that his clothes were strewn about on the floor. He had made no effort to put them in the hamper 3 feet away. The bathroom door was side open, and running water was the only sound coming from the room. Typically, Roger was a shower singer. Today, however, it was unusually quiet. Taking a deep breath, you slipped out of your own clothes and ventured into the bathroom. You pulled the shower curtain back and put out a hand to test the water temperature. 

“Jesus, Y/N!” Roger yelped, reaching for the wall to balance himself. “You scared the shit out of me.” You started to give an apology, but stopped as you looked Roger up and down. 

“Why are you hard?” you asked cautiously. “Am I interrupting something?” 

“No!” he said, shaking his head. “Well…yes, but no, I want you to stay.” His cheeks flushed red, and he covered himself with his hands. 

“I’ve seen your dick before, Rog,” you reminded him, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t have to hide yourself just because I walked into the room.” 

“Are you coming in, or aren’t you?” he huffed. 

Water cascaded down onto your shoulders as you stepped towards him. You stood on your tiptoes to kiss him, lacing one hand into his hair as your lips met his. 

“Darling, what are you…?” he asked, cut short by another kiss. You gripped his length in your hand, stroking him slowly as you pushed him up against the wall of the shower. 

“If you were feeling lonely, you could have just told me,” you reminded him between kisses. “We don’t all get invites for backstage quickies like Chrissie.” Roger breathed in sharply as you held him tighter. 

“Would you…” he asked, not needing to finish his sentence. You knelt before him on the shower floor and gripped his thighs tightly. 

“What’s the magic word?” you asked, gazing up at him from beneath your eyelashes. He bit his lip in an attempt to stay quiet as your tongue touched his skin. 

“Please, Y/N,” he begged, wiping water from his eyes. “God, please.” With a smile, you took him into your mouth. You felt your heartbeat quicken as Roger wove his fingers into your hair, pushing himself further into your mouth. His hips rocked back and forth, establishing a pace that kept brought him to the edge over and over. 

“Y/N, slow down,” he choked out after a few minutes. “I want to come in you.” 

“Whenever you’re ready, Rog,” you answered. 

“No, not in your mouth,” he groaned, “IN you.” Roger pulled out of your mouth and knelt down next to you. Your hand took over for your mouth, keeping him going as he kissed you hungrily. The cool floor of the tub sent a shiver up your spine as Roger pressed you down against it. His hands slid up the insides of your thighs, spreading your legs apart to make room for him to kneel between them. 

“No need to wait,” you told him. “I’ve been, uh…” 

“Helping yourself out?” he smiled wickedly. “That’s my girl.” 

* * * * * 

What Roger had started didn’t take long to finish. Both utterly spent, you let the water rain down on your bodies for a few minutes before getting up to wash off. Thankfully, Corin was still fast asleep in bed when you ducked your head in to check on him. Upon returning to your bedroom, you saw that Roger was already under the quilt. 

“You aren’t asleep already, are you?” you asked softly, crawling in beside him. 

“No, just lying here quietly,” he replied. 

“What’s on your mind?” you wondered, scooting closer to him. He rested his forehead against yours, thinking for a minute before answering. 

“Brian said he talked to you today onstage,” he said. 

“Yes, he did,” you nodded, recalling the conversation. “Is that what you were talking about after the show?” Roger looked away, unsure of what to say at first. 

“Do you…do you really thing I’d be better off if I didn’t have you and Corin?” he asked after a minute. His voice cracked as he spoke. 

“I don’t know, Rog,” you sighed. “I just can’t help but think that it would be easier for you.” 

“Easier, sure,” Roger acknowledged. “Better? I doubt it.” He put an arm around you, resting his hand on the small of your back. “I can’t imagine a better life than the one I have. I’m writing music and touring it around the world. I have a beautiful partner and an adorable son whom I adore. What could be better than that?” 

“Well, if it’s so great, then why would you think I’d want to leave you?” you queried, your voice steadily rising in pitch. 

“My job isn’t exactly conducive to raising a child,” he reminded you. “This year alone, I’ll have been on tour for 5 months.” 

“So what?” you snapped, sitting up in bed. “You think I’d rather not have you at all? That Corin and I would rather be back on our own?” 

“I don’t know, Y/N,” he sighed, resting a hand on your thigh. “I honestly don’t know.” His touch was calming; after a minute, you laid back down beside him. 

“Well, how about this?” you suggested. “Instead of using Brian as a middleman for our feelings, let’s talk this out. I’ll tell you my goals and dreams worries, and you tell me yours. Maybe if we compare lists and talk this through, we’ll feel better.” 

“Okay,” Roger nodded hesitantly. “Where do we start?” 

“We start by getting a good night’s sleep,” you smiled. “Maybe then our emotions won’t be running so hot.” 

“That’s fair.” 

“Until then, can we close our eyes?” Roger pleaded, rubbing his eyes. “I have the second London show tomorrow night, so I should probably get more than 3 hours of sleep.” 

“Okay,” you yawned, tucking yourself up against his bare chest. “Sleep, and then we’ll talk.” Roger placed a kiss on your forehead, and smoothed your hair down so he could rest his chin atop your head. 

“I love you, Y/N,” he said sincerely. “Every day, always.” 

“I love you, too, Roger,” you promised. “Nothing can change that.” As soon as you closed your eyes, the two of you were asleep. In a few short hours, Corin would wake up and crawl between the two of you, begging for attention and chocolate chip pancakes. Until then, however, you slept soundly in the security of each other’s company.


End file.
